


finally yours

by vulcanrise



Series: a year of holidays [3]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monthly Dinner, Valentine's Day, dennis freaking out cause he's dennis, terribly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22706647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanrise/pseuds/vulcanrise
Summary: Monthly Dinner on Valentine's Day becomes difficult when Dennis decides to get shitfaced in the bathroom.
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Series: a year of holidays [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587445
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	finally yours

“Oh, you are gonna look so fucking sexy tonight, hot stuff,” Dennis murmured seductively to his reflection. He held his own gaze as he concentrated on properly blending his foundation into his neck. Perfect. As always.

This time before their monthly dinner was a sacred ritual. Mac got ready in his room; Dennis used the en-suite bathroom. True, the ritual had changed somewhat since Mac had moved into Dennis’ room full-time nearly two months ago, but the principle remained the same.

In fact, Dennis mused, very little had changed overall since the tearful exchange had taken place in their living room on Christmas Day. Funny how those things happened.

Rick Astley’s greatest hits still blasted from the other side of the closed door. He still used the same products to create the perfect look. Maybe he’d added a few to his roster since hitting 40, but that was beside the point.

Mac would still be waiting for him as always when he walked out into the living room, letting out the requisite gasp as he saw the same face he’d be seeing every day for thirty years. Same plastered hair. Same shitty shirt and tie. Same glowing smile.

Dennis gave one last flick of his brush and dropped it back into the jar. Poured out another shot of tequila and threw it back. No salt, no lime.

Okay, so the tequila wasn’t usually part of the routine. But monthly dinner coinciding with Valentine’s Day? This called for a little assistance from liquid courage.

Dennis poured his sixth shot of the evening and drank it just as quickly as the others.

He looked back up to stare at his reflection again. It winked at him.

Oh no, wait. That was just his eyelid twitching.

Confidence, baby. The name of the game. The key to success.

God, he was going to fuck this up so badly.

Dennis gripped the edge of the sink, trying in vain to steady his breathing. He knew in theory that there was no reason to panic about tonight. Same restaurant, same him, same Mac.

But were they really the same anymore? The past six weeks or so had been positively glorious. They didn’t have to hold back with their intense bouts of physical affection. There was even a whole new emotional side to Mac he had never dared explore before that had been opened up to him.

And yet, Dennis hadn’t been ready for the level of vulnerability Mac now expected from him as well. His default tactic of blowing up and running away would get him nowhere, especially since Dennis really wanted to stay with Mac for good. Mac now made him sit in their fights with him until they made things right. Apparently, mid-forties wasn’t too late to finally grow up.

A sharp rap came through the door. “Hey babe, you almost ready?”

Mac’s voice caused Dennis to jump slightly, hitting his hand against the faucet.

“Shit, fuck, mother—!”

“Dennis? I’m opening the door.”

“No! Mac, don’t—”

He burst in anyway, revealing he was sporting the same slicked hair and shitty grey polo he’d worn every month for over ten years. Mac’s face flitted through a hundred emotions in two seconds before finally landing on what Dennis despised most: pity.

“Like what you see?” Dennis felt his face melting off as he spoke.

Mac’s eyes scanned Dennis from top to bottom, taking in the full picture of Dennis’ glory. He had an orange streak under his neck and above his glistening brow, his hair was completely flat and there was a stain on his rumpled button-up that matched the smell on Dennis’ breath.

“Den…”

Mac’s eyes grew wide and his eyebrows shot up into his gently receding hairline. Not exactly the gasp and glowing smile Dennis had been hoping to see.

“I’m almost done, baby,” Dennis said, leaning forward unsteadily towards Mac who reached out to grab his shoulders. “Just gimme five minutes and I’ll be so sexy for you. Jus’ absolutely fuckin’ perfect.”

“Is that tequila?” Mac asked instead when he spotted the half empty bottle on the sink. “When was the last time—? Never mind. I’m just gonna call Guigino’s and cancel.”

“No, no, I can drive.” Dennis nearly rolled his eyes as he heard how disgustingly pleading his words came out. “It’s our big night! We can’t cancel, baby boy. You’ve been excited about this for weeks.”

Mac scoffed. “There is no way in hell you are driving like this. I don’t even know if you’re fit to be in public, honestly. How many shots did you take?”

Dennis lowered his gaze to his socks and mumbled, “two…”

“Bullshit, Dennis. I know you’re lying. How many did you have?”

“Fine! I had five or six.”

Dennis almost laughed at the way Mac’s eyes bugged out. “Six?! Bro, you’ve been in here for twenty minutes! God, you must be fucking wasted.”

Dennis chuckled. “And I’m about to be a little more. Whoops!”

He leaned over and grabbed the tequila bottle by the neck, foregoing the glass in favour of pouring it straight down his throat. He coughed and sputtered before Mac forcefully took the bottle from his hands.

“Jesus Christ, Dennis.” Mac ran his hand along the top of his head, smoothing the already impregnable dome of hair. “Let’s get you to bed. I’m gonna call the restaurant.”

Dennis tripped slightly and fell onto his knees, blindly grabbing for Mac’s forearm on the way down.

“No, please! We have to go, baby.” He started stroking Mac’s skin with his thumb. “This was gonna be a _special night_,” he hissed. “Valentine’s Day, baby. So sexy.”

He winked up at Mac, immediately followed by an involuntary shudder.

“I’m sure some couple is going to be very grateful for a last-minute table—"

“Then let them have it, fuck!” Dennis exclaimed, falling back a little. “It’s just going to be the same place, same food, same music, same bastard waiter, same Mac and—”

“Dennis…”

“But you don’t get it!” he said, digging his fingers into the flesh of Mac’s arm. “It’s the same but it’s not! It’s us but it’s not. Why can’t it just—”

Dennis let go, finally sagging down onto the tile floor of the bathroom. “It had to be fucking perfect and now I’ve ruined it.”

He felt Mac’s arms wrap around his back and under his knees, lifting his out of the doorway and over towards the bed. Their bed. That they shared now.

Mac gently dropped Dennis onto the duvet, smoothing down his shirt out of some unnoticed reflex. Dennis rolled onto his side and curled in on himself.

“You have to go,” he groaned. “Don’t cancel the table, baby. It took us so long to get that table for tonight. Don’t waste it, baby. Don’t let me ruin your night.”

There was that pained look again. The one that pierced Dennis straight to his heart.

“You haven’t ruined anything, hot cakes,” replied Mac, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Dennis’ cheek. “I’ll order some food after I call Guigino’s and we can watch a movie when you’re up for it.”

Dennis grabbed the far side of the covers and pulled them over himself. “Whatever. I’m not even tired, man. I don’t need a fucking nap.”

He heard Mac’s faint chuckle as he walked out of the bedroom.

_“Hi, I’m calling to cancel a reservation for tonight. Reynolds, party of two. Yeah, eight o’clock…”_

Dennis tried to shut out all the noise and focus on his breathing. In through the nose… Shit, his breathing was loud as hell. Was it always like this? Was he just a loud breather and had never been aware of this before? Did Mac think he was a loud breather?

Shit. He’d forgotten to breathe out.

He exhaled through his mouth, trying to ignore how loud it sounded in the empty room.

And honestly, what did Mac think Dennis needed to sleep for? He was buzzed, not white girl wasted. This was the beginning of the night, after all. The beginning of a meticulously planned evening concluding in sexual fantasy.

Mac was still on the phone, but it sounded like it was to someone else now. Dennis bolted up in the bed. Was he talking about him to Charlie? To _Dee_?

And then he was standing in the living room. Probably looking dazed and confused as hell. Mac shot him a weird glance.

“Yeah, with the extra egg rolls too.”

Oh.

“And can we get the sauce on the side?” He paused. “Okay, yeah, I know it always comes on the side but I just wanted to make sure ‘cause my boyf—Sure, I’ll be downstairs to pick it up.”

Dennis felt his heart beat a little faster and leaned in what he hoped came across as a casual manner against the couch.

“So… Chinese?” he asked, squinting to keep the kitchen from flipping upside down.

“No, that was Frank.”

“Huh?”

Mac flashed him a look and smirked. “I’m kidding. Obviously.”

“Oh, right.”

Mac slipped his phone back into his pocket and ran his hands down the front of his pants. “Babe, do you want to sit down?”

Mac was really blurry. Dennis should warn him that his head was going to hit the ceiling soon.

“Sure…”

And then Mac’s arms were wrapping around his shoulders again and guiding him to the couch. Dennis let himself fall a little too quickly, closing his eyes to keep the world from toppling over.

“What do you wanna watch, Den?”

“I don’t care. Ferris Bueller.”

Dennis didn’t need to look over to feel Mac’s smile on him.

***

The food came during the parade through downtown Chicago.

They hadn’t watched the movie in a few years, but they still had their usual quips memorized. Dennis commented on Alan Ruck’s age (“He’s twice the age of the role he’s playing!”) while Mac pulled up pictures on his phone (“See how hot he got? Damn, silver fox.” “I’m right here, babe.”) and did his best to shovel rice into his mouth with chopsticks before ultimately accepting defeat and getting a fork.

They ended up in their usual positions by the time Mr. Rooney did the walk of shame into the school bus. Mac’s arm around Dennis, Dennis resting his head against Mac’s shoulder and their feet tangled in front of them under the blanket. Mac brushed his thumb against Dennis’s arm.

“See, they always play that song at the end of movies in the eighties. Day Bow Bow.”

“What?”

Mac tore his eyes away from the screen to meet Dennis’ confused stare.

“You know, Day Bow Bow.”

“That song is called—you know what, never mind. My head hurts.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what happens when you drink that much liquor in half an hour and keep having beers even though I told you it was a bad idea.” He poked Dennis gently in the side.

“Ow, my stomach hurts too,” Dennis pouted.

Mac kissed the top of his head. “You’re just old, baby. Can’t keep living like a teenager skipping school.”

Dennis kept his eyes on the television. Ferris wandered out in a bathrobe and told everyone to go home. Dennis wasn’t watching anymore anyway.

“Mac,” Dennis asks, taking a deep breath, “why did we wait this long if we were never going to do anything different?”

Mac kept rubbing circles on Dennis’ arm as he let his head rest on Dennis. “What do you mean?”

“I just…” He paused, twisting his fingers together in his lap. “It’s Valentine’s Day and we just spent the evening doing the same shit we do every night. Order food, drink and watch a movie on the couch. Nothing is different from three months ago.”

“That’s not true. Just because we did the same things doesn’t mean nothing’s changed.”

“Like what? Name one thing that we haven’t done for the last thirty years we’ve known each other.”

“We talk more.”

Dennis turned to face Mac on the couch. “Seriously? We talk? That’s what you’re going with?”

Mac snorts.

“What, you want me to say sex? Fine, we bang like every day and it’s awesome.” He laughs. “But really. We never used to be able to talk about what we were really thinking without getting angry and throwing things.”

Dennis still couldn’t settle the pit in his stomach. Mac brushed his nose along his hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Dennis exclaimed. “Absolutely nothing! Everything is fine and perfect and just great. You’re right, this is exactly how I pictured spending the holiday dedicated to grand acts of romance and love! Drunk on the couch and ready to pass out at ten o’clock on a Friday.”

“But I loved our night in—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me.”

Mac recoiled, staring in shock at Dennis’ finger in his face. He let his arm fall from Dennis’ shoulders and sat back to face him.

“I’m not lying and you know that. What is this really about, Den?”

Dennis let out a sharp laugh. “God, I can’t believe it with you. You’re just so—so agh! I just can’t right now.”

He crossed his arms and turned decisively towards the door. Let Mac stew for a bit. Dennis heard Mac take a shaky breath before letting it out. Goddamn him and his mindfulness techniques from his bitch therapist.

“Earlier, why did you say you had ruined my evening?” Mac finally asked.

“Because.” Dennis barked. “Because we always go to Guigino’s on the second Friday of the month. And I couldn’t even get out of the apartment without fucking it all up.”

Mac waited.

Dennis let his arms fall to his sides and turned back to stare at the black screen in front of them.

“Because this is the only time we let ourselves do something that’s not part of the endless routine we’ve gotten ourselves into. Breakfast. Bar. Drinking. Food. Movie. Bed. Every fucking day except for one.”

His hands clenched into fists against his will.

“And then now that we’re, like, doing this thing together? This is the only thing resembling a normal date we ever get. We get to pretend we’re a normal couple who do normal things and forget about everyone else for one night. So it’s even more important that we get it right.”

“What do you mean, get it right?”

“It has to be perfect!” Dennis tried to ignore Mac’s solid, reassuring hand that had come to rest on his thigh. “But what happened is that we fell into a new routine where now it’s impossible to go on a date if it’s not Guigino’s, if you don’t wear that stupid shirt I love and flatten your hair, if we don’t split the appetizer because you want to save room for the meal, if we don’t even listen to the same goddamn music in the car on the way over! We’ve made it so we can’t go out without all these invisible rules we invented! Because it’s the only chance we get to be real.”

He finally let himself breathe. Mac opened his mouth to speak, but Dennis kept going, now spurred on by his release.

“And tonight it’s fucking _Valentine’s Day_. Ooh, scary. ‘Cause let’s face it, babe. Neither of us have ever had a single successful relationship in our entire goddamn lives. And I don’t know what I’m doing, Mac, I really don’t. And don’t even bother reminding me about _that_ Valentine’s Day, ‘cause I know. I am painfully aware of my choices every second I am on this Earth.” Dennis shook his head and stared at his fists in his lap. “And these six weeks have been fantastic. Amazing. I don’t regret what happened but I just… I’m so fucking lost and I don’t know how to do this.”

Dennis belatedly realized there were hot tears pooling in the corners of his eyes until they began falling freely down his face. He felt his whole body clench in anger and frustration. Somewhere inside, a scream ripped through him.

On the couch, Mac reached across to bring him back into his arms.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing either.”

Dennis sobbed. “Wow, thanks.”

“But we’ve been with each other for thirty years and we’ll be here for thirty more,” Mac continued. “This was never something you were going to have to do alone.”

He ran his fingers through Dennis’ hair as he held him.

“And I like the way we do our dinners, but we can always change it up. I’m pretty sure I’ve stretched this shirt way past what it’s supposed to be anyway. We can go out more if you want.”

Mac pressed his lips to Dennis’ forehead.

“Honestly, babe, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night,” he admitted. “It was always going to be perfect no matter what because I’d be spending it with you. I just look forward to our dinners every month because I get to see you get excited about us all over again. I love you so much, Dennis. No traditions or rituals we do could make me love you more. I love the us that we’ve been able to be these past few weeks.”

He waited for Dennis to say something in return. When nothing came, he leaned over and—

Dennis dozed peacefully against Mac’s chest, his palms open and relaxed on his legs.

Mac sighed contentedly and held Dennis a little tighter. His smile stayed with him while he picked Dennis up and laid him gently in bed and crawled in beside him.

Dennis groaned and rolled toward Mac.

“Thank you,” he murmured before closing his eyes again.

Mac leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> happy tends bar day everyone. this is so damn fluffy but that's all that's coming to me right now. hope you enjoyed!


End file.
